


I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm

by freaky_hanyou



Series: Christmas Oneshot Collection: The Naughty (And Sometimes Nice) List [8]
Category: Free!
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Nanase Haruka, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Dancing and Singing, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Lapdance, Lingerie, Living Together, M/M, Nanase Haruka & Tachibana Makoto & Tokyo, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut, Top Tachibana Makoto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:34:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28416195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freaky_hanyou/pseuds/freaky_hanyou
Summary: It’s the holiday season once again, and thanks to Makoto’s sexy dance moves and some sexy Santa undies, Haru now has trouble controlling himself when he hears the songAll I Want for Christmas Is You.Stumbling on a pair of Christmas undies himself, he decides that he wants to gift Makoto with this same kind of present that Makoto gave him last year…but in Haru’s own style, of course. And if Makoto ends up with the same self-control problem that Haru does, then Haru wouldn’t feel too guilty…right? In which Haru gives Makoto a Christmas present he’ll never forget.Companion toAll I Want for Christmas Is You,but can be read alone!
Relationships: Nanase Haruka/Tachibana Makoto
Series: Christmas Oneshot Collection: The Naughty (And Sometimes Nice) List [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1234142
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm

**Author's Note:**

> Alright I'm already late so here’s all you need to know:
> 
> Haven’t read _All I Want for Christmas Is You?_ No worries, here’s the required information: Makoto dances to said song in sexy Santa undies for Haru, and sexytimes ensue :thumbs up:  
> (But if you want to read it [here it is](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17246174) lol)
> 
> I wrote this with the [Dean Martin version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuA_-aG4OXI) of the song in mind, but also think of it as having this kinda smooth jazzy vibe like [this instrumental version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oalDRTmq5hk) (minus the trumpet though lol).
> 
> I’ve made you wait long enough let’s gooooo
> 
> (also if you’re curious the idea for these undies came from a sweater and it all just went downhill XD)

_“I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need…”_

_“I don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree…” Haru’s grip on the bed covers tightened as Makoto swung his arms and spun, facing backwards as he continued; Haru bit back a soft groan as that particular move gave him a fantastic view of how the underwear hugged Makoto’s rear—_

The moment that _All I Want for Christmas Is You_ came on the loudspeakers at the department store, Haru had to pause in his perusal of the shirt rack; memories from the last Christmas season flashed before his mind’s eye, unbidden. He shuddered, feeling the familiar tendrils of a low heat curl in his belly. He gave himself a little shake to snap out of it, then let out a tiny sigh. It was a good thing Makoto was at class today; _he’s_ the one who had danced for Haru, and yet he turned redder than Haru did whenever they heard this song out shopping. And they heard it often.

Haru absentmindedly flipped through the shirts as he glowered to himself. At least he had a bit more control over himself this year than he did last year. Haru was not known for his self-control, so last year whenever they heard it, it was all he could do not to drag Makoto off to the closest place they could be alone—whether they were in a store, a café, or even in the middle of the street, it didn’t matter. Makoto’s performance was _branded_ on his mind’s eye…Haru certainly didn’t want that to change, but he also wouldn’t mind at least being able to maintain some civility in public at the same time. 

_Stupid Makoto,_ Haru thought as he turned away and headed down the aisle, _Stupid sexy, amazing, irresistible Makoto…_ The thought of it being like this for every Christmas season for the rest of their lives made Haru want to groan from both frustration and desire. Makoto wasn’t even _here_ right now; this wasn’t fair. Sure, Makoto would feel embarrassed, but _Haru_ was the one who had to hold himself in check; _he_ was the one who had to hold back the itch, the _need_ to touch Makoto, to—

Haru looked around and realized he was in an entirely different area of the store than he’d intended. He hadn’t been paying attention. He sighed again, turning to double back to the exit. However, as he turned a flash of green velvet gave him pause. He’d stumbled into the lingerie section, and he was standing in front of a display of holiday boxer-briefs. They currently had a similar version to the Santa pair that Makoto owned, but next to them…

They were simple, a smooth green velvet with a black waistband. But they had a gingerbread man stitched over the groin of the fabric, as well as two words in cheery white block letters written over the thighs:

_Eat me._

Haru paused as an idea suddenly came to him. Makoto had put on a performance for him so Haru would enjoy the holiday more—who’s to say that Haru couldn't do the same? Haru was _certain_ that Makoto would enjoy Haru performing for him; and now that he'd had the idea, Haru was certain he'd enjoy performing for _Makoto._ The lust and love that had burned through him when Makoto had put himself out there for his sake...he wanted Makoto to feel the same. He wanted to give those feelings to Makoto, too...

_And_ if afterwards Makoto suffered the same _side effects_ that he did, Haru couldn't say that he'd feel _too_ guilty...he wasn't above a little payback.

Haru picked up the boxer-briefs and noticed two more gingerbread men on the back—one on each cheek. The arousal he’d fought off earlier returned, _rapidly._ Ideas started forming in his head as Haru purposefully walked to the front of the store with his selection in hand. Oh yes. These would do nicely.

But what song should he choose?

Haru’s steps slowed as he considered. The peppy and upbeat Christmas songs weren’t really his style. No, he wanted Makoto to enjoy Christmas _his_ way—something smoother, something Haru could use to bring the softer side of Christmas to Makoto. Instead of starting with a singeing flame, Haru wanted a song that would start with a slow, cool burn that would eventually lead to—

_What do I care, how much it may storm; I’ve got my love to keep me warm…_

Haru stopped completely as the song currently playing over the loudspeakers permeated his thoughts. That could work. Plans flooded Haru’s mind as he started walking again, trying to work everything out. He’d need to do a bit of research to find exactly what he wanted…but he had a feeling this would work perfectly.

_Just you wait, Makoto,_ Haru thought as both excitement and arousal flared in his belly, _Just you wait._ He’d never know what hit him.

\---((A Few Days Later))---

Haru sat on the edge of their bed and tried his best to keep still. Tonight was the night. The timing was perfect: it was a Friday, neither of them had plans tomorrow, and Haru had gotten home before Makoto. He had already set up their room, and he was already dressed. Now all he had to do was wait for Makoto to get home.

Not for the first time, a tiny flurry of butterflies flew through Haru’s stomach. He wanted to do this, was excited about it even, but Haru had to admit he was a little bit nervous. He could see why Makoto had drunk so much the night he’d done this…

Haru paused in his failing attempts not to fidget. Would that make him feel better? Haru considered for a moment before discarding the idea. Nah, he didn’t need that much liquid courage; he’d be fine.

Just fine.

In a few more seconds Haru was up and heading for the kitchen. One shot, he decided. One shot was all he needed to warm him up, shake off his nerves, and push him in the right direction. He grabbed a bottle of the first liquor he saw in the fridge and poured a tiny glass, downing it immediately. Feeling the fire warm his insides, he took a deep, calming breath. There. That’d help.

“I’m home!” Haru heard from the entryway, and nerves exploded in Haru’s stomach again. He looked at the bottle.

…better have one more for good luck.

\---((Meanwhile))---

Makoto walked into the living room, his brows furrowing slightly when he didn’t see Haru there. He turned towards the kitchen, just in time to see Haru putting down an empty shot glass.

“Haru?” He questioned, and Haru startled briefly before turning towards him, leaving the glass on the counter.

“Welcome home,” he said as if nothing was amiss, and Makoto’s eyes searched him, trying to read him. It didn’t seem like anything was wrong, but why was Haru drinking?

“Are you a—” Makoto started to ask, but his voice stopped working once he registered Haru’s appearance. Haru was wearing grey sweatpants and a grey sweatshirt. _Makoto’s_ grey sweatpants and grey sweatshirt. The ones Makoto had worn when he’d—

“Come with me,” Haru said, extending his hand. Makoto took it on reflex, his mind no longer fully functioning. As they walked, Makoto took in the way his clothes hung off of Haru, and how Haru was holding the pants up with his free hand. The side that Haru wasn’t holding sagged slightly, and Makoto saw a flash of— _green?_

They arrived at the bedroom, and Haru guided Makoto to sit on the edge of the bed. A chair from the kitchen had made its way into the bedroom and had been placed facing the bed. Makoto tried to swallow, but his throat was dry. “Haru, are—”

“Sh,” Haru cut him off gently as he headed over to his phone on the other side of the room. He looked into Makoto’s eyes, and the anticipation Makoto felt skyrocketed as he clearly saw a pink blush dusting Haru’s cheeks. “I want to show you something.”

Makoto’s breathing faltered. “Haru…” Just _thinking_ about what Haru was about to do made Makoto want to get up and jump him _right now._ Haru could easily see that in his expression, and his blush deepened ever-so-slightly.

“Do you want me to do this or not,” Haru muttered, breaking their eye contact.

Makoto didn’t hesitate. “I do,” he replied sincerely, “but only if _you_ want to.”

Haru smiled slightly at that; Makoto’s kindness and regard for his well-being was like a balm on his nerves. It was only Makoto watching him; Haru would be fine. For Makoto, he’d be _more_ than fine. He’d pull out all the stops—only for Makoto.

Makoto watched the slight nerves and blush melt away from Haru’s expression, leaving only heat and determination. “I want to…” he said in a quiet, molten voice that matched his eyes, “…so don’t move from that spot.”

“Okay,” Makoto whispered in reply, pre-emptively curling his fingers into the sheets to remind himself. That may just be a tall order.

Haru smirked a bit at Makoto’s reaction; he then pressed ‘play’ on his phone before quickly coming to stand between Makoto and the chair behind him as the intro music began to play. Makoto knew the tune, but the version wasn’t anything he’d heard before. This version had more of a slow, almost relaxed pace. However Makoto felt anything but relaxed as he looked up Haru’s body, watching Haru’s smirk grow as he began to sing:

_“The snow is snowing, and the wind is blowing,”_ Makoto’s eyes widened as he realized this version was a _karaoke_ track—only Haru’s low, clear baritone filled the room as he let go of Makoto’s sweatpants and they immediately dropped to the ground, revealing Haru’s long, graceful legs. The boxer-briefs remained mostly hidden, however, masked by Makoto’s sweatshirt that came a fair distance down Haru’s thighs.

_“But I can weather the storm,”_ Haru held out the note as he firmly grasped the hem of the shirt with both hands and started to pull; removing the sweatshirt, he threw it to the side before he stepped out of the sweatpants as well, effortlessly kicking them away. Makoto inhaled sharply as the boxer-briefs came into view for the first time.

Green velvet. A gingerbread man. _Eat me._

Makoto bit back a tiny groan as Haru continued, his confidence climbing as he watched Makoto’s reaction. _“What do I care, how much it may storm,”_ Haru gave his hips a little shake to the slow beat, and Makoto’s eyes followed their every move. Thrilled that his plan was working, Haru sauntered forward, briefly trailing a few fingers along the line of Makoto’s jaw.

_“I’ve got my love to keep me warm,”_ he sang before he purposefully turned around, heading for the chair. He heard Makoto’s audible gasp at the sight of the other two gingerbread men, and he couldn’t help but grin to himself as he straddled the chair, facing away from Makoto. This was pretty fun. Briefly he wondered what _other_ reactions he could pull from Makoto…and he had every intention of finding out.

_“I can’t remember,”_ he continued while looking at Makoto over his shoulder, _“a worse December…”_ Placing a hand on each knee he spread his legs as far as he could, then slid his hands up the length of each thigh to stop at his hips. Haru had to bite back a small chuckle; he could _see_ Makoto straighten in place from that. He could also see something _else_ starting to straighten too…the plan was working more quickly than he’d thought. _“Just watch those icicles form,”_ Haru kept both hands on his hips and pivoted, kicking his leg over the chair back to turn his whole body to face Makoto. He’d practiced that particular move several times, and it had paid off; he didn’t kick the back of the chair, and Makoto let out a small whine of longing that was _unfairly_ arousing.

Time to kick it up a notch, then. _“Oh, what do I care, if icicles form,”_ Haru pushed off with hands on his knees into a standing position, rolling his body as sensually as he could. _“I’ve got my love to keep me warm…”_ Both hands then pushed slowly down Haru’s chest, stopping just before the waistband of his underwear. Makoto whined again, louder this time.

_“Off with my overcoat, off with my glove,”_ Makoto was having trouble remembering to breathe as Haru turned and walked confidently to the side of the chair, facing away from it and holding the back with one hand. _“I need no overcoat…”_ While lightly caressing his thigh with his free hand, he bent at the waist just enough that his _gingerbread men_ pushed out in sharp emphasis. _“I’m burning with love!”_

“H-Haru…” Makoto murmured, utterly captivated by Haru’s steamy, enticing performance. Haru gave him an uncharacteristic smirk as he sat down and spun forward by keeping one leg in place and swinging the other around to the other side, spreading his legs wide so Makoto could clearly see the _attention_ the gingerbread man in the front was giving him. _“My heart’s on fire,”_ Haru sang, leisurely crossing his arms to hug his chest before he pulled his hands across it, dragging them over each collarbone to meet at his sternum. _“The flame grows higher…”_ Haru’s hands continued their journey together, pushing down his chest again, further and further still until he palmed himself firmly. _“So I will weather the storm…”_ Feeling a jolt of pleasure from his hands as well as Makoto’s rough groan of his name, Haru slowly and enthusiastically continued their mutual torture by sliding each hand slowly across each inner thigh until he reached his knees. It was a good thing this song was pretty short—Haru wasn’t sure he could last that long, and he _knew_ Makoto couldn’t, judging from the mangled state of the sheets.

_“What do I care, how much it may storm?”_ Haru stood again and turned around, popping his hip to each downbeat of the song. _“I’ve got my love to keep me warm…”_

Meanwhile, Makoto was very rapidly losing the tenuous control he had over himself. He wasn’t sure how Haru had kept still the entire time Makoto had done this. Makoto had felt like he was coming undone before Haru had even started, but _now,_ now his every nerve felt like it was on fire, like if he didn’t touch Haru right _now_ he might—

There was a tiny musical interlude, and Haru turned back to face him again; this time, he gripped Makoto’s shoulder firmly and placed one knee at his side before he swung his other leg around to straddle Makoto’s lap. Mirroring what Makoto had done to him, Haru held onto both shoulders and rolled his hips downwards into Makoto’s arousal—except he kept his movements timed to the slow rhythm of the song. Makoto let out a low moan in the back of his throat; not trusting himself to touch Haru at the moment, he dug his hands further into the sheets, trying to cling to some level of sanity. It wasn’t working out well. Every undulation of Haru’s hips sent a fresh wave of heat through his gut and into his groin; the fire built and built, and the frustrating barrier of fabric between their bodies quickly became too much for Makoto to bear. He was about to reach between them and rip open his jeans when Haru suddenly leaned forward, brushing his lips teasingly against Makoto’s ear as the song continued:

_“I thought you oughta know my heart’s on fire,”_ he murmured, and Makoto honestly couldn’t tell if Haru was singing or speaking anymore, due to the blood pounding in his ears. He let out a surprised groan as Haru suddenly grazed his earlobe with his teeth on the next downward grind of his hips. _“The flames leap higher, so I will weather the storm…”_ Haru’s composure finally cracked as he ground his hips down one last time before he shifted, folding his legs around Makoto’s hips and gripping him tightly. Both hands slid over Makoto’s shoulders and moved up into his hair, and his lips drew closer and closer to Makoto’s parted ones. “What do I care, how much it storms,” Haru tried to sing, but instead it came out a low, sultry rasp. He was determined to finish, but _oh,_ was it difficult.

“Haru…” Makoto begged, his lips searching for him. He couldn’t take it anymore. Instead, Haru turned, his lips grazing Makoto’s cheek.

“I’ve got my love,” he murmured before bringing his lips to the other cheek, “to keep me warm…”

_“Haruka, please…”_

“I’ve got my love to keep me warm,” Haru finished in a rush, and neither of them heard the ending of the music as their lips found each other, both of them moaning in relief as they tried to eradicate all space between them as fast as possible. Makoto’s hands flew out of the sheets and onto Haru’s lower back, one pressing him close as the other trailed up and down Haru’s spine. Haru arched into the kiss, a pleased sound escaping his lips; Makoto seized this opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping into Haru’s mouth as he tilted his chin for better access. Haru made another noise and tugged lightly at Makoto’s hair in response, demonstrating his approval without words. Both hands then splayed over Haru’s back as Makoto quickly stood up, his lips never breaking their fevered kiss. He took a moment to gain his balance (and to stop his head from spinning due to Haru tightening his legs around his body at the shift), but he soon took a few steps forward, reluctantly pulling his lips away so they could catch their breath.

“Sit on the chair, Haru,” Makoto murmured as his kisses shifted to the side of Haru’s neck—he was trying to talk with Haru, but at the same time he couldn’t keep his lips off of him if he tried.

Haru lolled his head to the side to give Makoto better access but still attempted to respond. “Sit…on the chair?” He fought valiantly to try to understand where Makoto was going with this, but his mind was trying to get him to focus on other, more _pressing_ matters.

“Sit on the chair,” Makoto repeated, reluctantly pulling his lips away. The thought of Haru unwrapping himself from him nearly undid him, but the idea that called to him overrode it, instead further magnifying the heat blazing through his groin. When Haru still didn’t let go, he brushed his lips meaningfully over Haru’s ear, grazing his teeth briefly over the top of the shell. “I’m hungry…for some _dessert.”_

Haru’s arousal spiked as he immediately caught Makoto’s meaning. Unfolding his legs, he slowly slid down Makoto’s body, and his hands shifted back to Makoto’s shoulders to support his weight. Once he was standing Makoto gently unwound Haru’s hands from him before carefully pushing him into the chair. Haru swallowed as Makoto dropped to his knees, making a home for himself between Haru’s legs. Green eyes locked with blue for just a moment before Makoto leaned forward to nuzzle his cheek against Haru’s eager erection. He then looked up again, gauging Haru’s reaction.

Haru still kept his gaze locked on him; he was biting down lightly on his lower lip, trying to contain himself, but his rapid breaths escaped through his nose nonetheless. Pleased at this, Makoto leaned forward again and pressed one chaste kiss to the face of the gingerbread man, which ended up being somewhere around the ridge of Haru’s cock. Self-control forgotten, Haru gasped loudly as color splashed across his cheeks; since the chair didn’t have arms for him to hold onto, Haru’s hands found Makoto’s shoulders again, clutching at the fabric of his shirt.

“Makoto,” Haru said softly, and Makoto pulled his head back as he slowly slid both hands up Haru’s thighs, stopping at his hipbones.

“I’ve got you, Haru-chan,” Makoto replied in a tone as smooth as velvet, while his thumbs gently caressed the sensitive skin at Haru’s hips. “There’s no rush.”

Haru let out an almost tortured groan as Makoto’s hands started sliding up his chest instead of going back down. Reaching Haru’s nipples, Makoto carefully closed a thumb and forefinger around each peaked bud before methodically rubbing them in between his fingers. Intently. Meticulously.

Haru’s breathing came in short pants as Makoto neither sped up nor slowed down, just continued his steady teasing. His hands tensed in Makoto’s shirt as he tried to stay still, tried to let Makoto take what he wanted…but he couldn’t sit still for much longer.

After another few seconds, Haru started to squirm in his chair. Precum quickly stained the front of his underwear, scandalously darkening the design. A few seconds more and his hips jutted into the open air between them.

“Makoto…” he whispered in a soft whine, and Makoto finally let go; his hands made their return journey back down Haru’s body, stopping at the waistband of his underwear. When Makoto made no move to remove them, Haru moaned in frustration and squirmed a bit more. “Makot—”

“Haru,” Makoto said abruptly as he looked up at him, “D-Did you…” Even though he was so turned on, Makoto still found himself too embarrassed to finish his question. He swallowed and tried again. “Did you…in the back…l-like I did…”

Haru gave him a small lustful smile as he finally caught Makoto’s meaning. “Did I cut a hole in the back, you mean? Of course; I’m all ready for you, Makoto, so…” Haru’s hands drifted back into Makoto’s hair. “Please, do _something.”_

Makoto felt his entire body ignite at Haru’s words. Well. Now he knew that he shouldn’t take these off. Instead, he carefully pulled down the waistband at the front with one hand, then reached in with the other to free Haru’s own _gingerbread and cookies_ from their confines. It probably wasn’t the most comfortable, but Haru didn’t seem to care. On the contrary, once Makoto had freed him he simply spread his legs wider, putting himself on full display for Makoto to play with and _eat._

Makoto bit back a groan as he took in the tempting sight before him. He had said ‘there’s no rush,’ but in reality Makoto was just as equally affected by his own leisurely pace. Playing with Haru’s chest had especially cost him; now all he wanted to do was throw Haru onto the bed and plunge into him without thought to anything else but their pleasure, but he held himself back. Haru had clearly had something _particular_ in mind when he’d purchased these, and Makoto had _definitely_ had the same thought the moment he’d seen them. Makoto wasn’t about to disappoint.

Haru gave a light tug on his hair, bringing him back to the present. Locking eyes with Haru, Makoto slowly leaned forward and swiped his tongue once over his tip, making a clean space for more precum to quickly fill.

“Makoto,” Haru said on a breathless gasp, his hips gyrating again when Makoto moved his head away from his erection. He then scooted as close as he could before he rested one strong forearm on Haru’s thigh, locking his hand firmly over one hip. Haru wasn’t going anywhere. Satisfied, Makoto brought his other hand to Haru’s testicles, lightly caressing them with only his thumb.

“M-Makoto!” Haru gasped a little louder; his hips reflexively tried to buck up again but were solidly held down by Makoto’s grip. Haru moaned freely as Makoto’s thumb traveled higher, following the vein along the underside of his cock before grazing over the tip just as lightly.

Haru wanted to cry out in frustration and frazzled arousal, but he instead settled for tightening his grip on Makoto’s hair and tilting his face back up to Haru’s. Makoto had nothing but a sinful smile for him in response to Haru’s wordless complaint, and said complaint was promptly derailed as Makoto encircled the head of his cock lightly in his hand. He twisted his grip back and forth, never sliding up and down. Haru broke eye contact and tipped his head back, his hips protesting their confinement once again. “A-Ah…”

After a few more twists Makoto finally took pity on him and slid his now-slick hand down Haru’s cock with one strong stroke, then another. Haru moaned his approval, then moaned even louder as Makoto’s tongue joined his hand, sneaking tiny licks to his tip as his hand picked up speed.

Haru looked back down to watch and felt his pleasure double. “Mn, Makoto, it’s…” Even Haru wasn’t even sure how he wanted to finish that sentence. Too much? Not enough? Luckily Makoto understood him without Haru having to use any words; his hand suddenly dropped to the base of Haru’s cock and squeezed with just the right pressure as Makoto took Haru’s tip fully into his mouth and sucked loudly.

“Ma- _ah!”_ Makoto didn’t leave Haru time to think as he worked his mouth lower, tracing the vein with the flat of his tongue on the way down. “Ah, _ah…”_ Haru’s gasps only spurred Makoto on further as he reached as low as he could, his hand covering the difference. Haru made a low noise of want in the back of his throat, and his hands trembled in Makoto’s hair as he tried to let Makoto do as he wished, tried not to force him to move. He didn’t want to hurt Makoto.

Makoto would have smiled if his mouth wasn’t already occupied. He wanted to give Haru everything, everything he wanted and more. Right _now._ Letting out a groan himself, Makoto finally started to set a rhythm with his mouth. Haru let out a pleased moan as Makoto quickly fell into a familiar pace, one that easily turned Haru to liquid in his arms.

Predictably, Haru quickly started to fall apart. His hands fell away from Makoto’s hair and dropped limply to his sides, and his head fell back again. “Makoto, _Makoto,”_ Haru chanted in breathy murmurs, which simultaneously caused Makoto to both pick up his pace as well as thrust his own cock uselessly against his jeans. This was quickly approaching painful, but Makoto couldn’t bring himself to care. All he cared about was Haru, _Haru…_

_“Makoto,”_ Haru cried out one more time before his eyes started to slide shut. However he fought against it, forcing himself to look down and return one hand to Makoto’s hair. “M-Makoto, _stop…”_

Makoto’s pace slowed by a fraction as he met Haru’s gaze. _Stop?_ He asked with his eyes, and Haru started to nod and kept nodding, trying to get his point across before it was too late.

“I want to come with you, _please,”_ he said, his urgent plea ending on another wanton moan; Makoto groaned loudly against Haru’s sensitive skin in response to his admission, causing Haru to cry out again. “Makoto! Please…!”

Makoto pulled away, and despite it being his own wish, Haru still made a small unconscious noise of protest at the loss. Makoto then released his hip and scooted back a bit as Haru attempted to get his bearings.

Makoto took a second to stand as well, trying to get himself to focus just a little bit. Haru needed his help. He carefully helped Haru to his feet, leaning him fully against Makoto’s body before wrapping both arms tightly around him. Haru’s still-erratic breathing pressed Haru’s chest close to his with each inhale; his every breath tore at the tiny bit of control Makoto had just regained, until finally he could take it no longer. Makoto needed him. “As for the other two gingerbread men…” Makoto started, then let out a shuddering breath as he felt rather than heard Haru stifle another moan against his collarbone by biting lightly on his shirt and skin. Makoto tried to continue his thought, but the little brainpower he had left was swiftly escaping him. “I’d like to _devour_ them with something other than my mouth, if that’s alright with you.”

Haru bit him again, and Makoto had to actively force himself to remain upright. “Please, Makoto… _hurry_ …”

Makoto closed his eyes for a brief second. If Haru kept saying his name like that, he wasn’t even going to get his pants off. Makoto squeezed Haru even tighter before he suddenly lifted, pulling Haru’s feet far enough off the ground that he could reverse their positions and place Haru in front of the bed. Makoto made sure Haru was secure on his feet again before he let go, then pushed at Haru’s shoulders so he would sit down. Haru took the hint and sat on the bed, scooting himself backwards into the pillows as Makoto tried to rid himself of his clothing as fast as he could.

Once he’d finally wrestled off the last of it Makoto looked over at Haru. His eyes widened at the scandalous sight his Haru made, and he had to take a second to collect himself. Haru lounged back on the pillows almost leisurely, casually watching Makoto strip before him. His erection still proudly stood free from its _decoration,_ shining in the dim light from both more precum and Makoto’s earlier attentions. His eyes practically glowed in interest and lust as they watched Makoto’s every move—every flex of muscle, every movement of his body. He appeared the picture of predatory desire, patiently waiting for his prey to come to him…but Makoto knew better; he could see each heavy breath escape Haru’s parted lips, giving away his impatience and need.

Makoto’s cock twitched at the sight, and Haru gave a low chuckle. It twitched again, and this time Haru laughed, holding out both arms to him as his leering stare morphed into a genuine smile.

“Just come here already,” he said affectionately, and Makoto finally remembered how to move, gravitating towards him like a moth to a flame. He crawled over him, gently resting his body over his. At once Haru wound his limbs around him; his arms wrapped around Makoto’s back and his legs curled around his hips before he lifted his own to grind hard into Makoto’s.

Makoto let out a tiny whine at the contact. “Haruu…” he whispered, his voice almost cracking.

Haru only tightened his grip on Makoto’s back, digging his nails in lightly. “I can’t wait any longer,” he said heatedly, “and I don’t think you can, either.”

Of course he was right. Makoto already felt like he was a hair’s breadth away from ending their Christmas festivities prematurely. He dropped his head down to briefly leave a few deep kisses in a trail on Haru’s neck. “Okay, Haru-chan,” he murmured in agreement. His lips returned to Haru’s before he could be chastised for his use of ‘chan,’ giving him one quick, chaste kiss; then he ardently pressed their lips together one more time, pouring all of his emotions into his kiss.

_Haru, I love you. You’re amazing. I can’t believe you wanted to do this for me; I love you so much…_

Haru’s face was red when Makoto pulled away, and it wasn’t entirely from the kiss. He’d heard all of Makoto’s thoughts loud and clear. Makoto promptly surmised this and chuckled, moving to kiss Haru again, to shower him in his love and affection. However, Haru abruptly turned his lips to the side, suddenly feeling undeserving of such an angel’s kisses. After all, half of the reason he’d decided to do this was for revenge. He hadn’t thought he would feel very guilty, but boy had he been wrong. Seeing Makoto’s kind, loving expression…he felt like a ham.

Makoto sensed the change in Haru’s mood and pulled back to meet his eyes, his expression serious. “Haru? What’s wrong?” Makoto stared down at him in concern, blinking hard as he tried to pump the brakes and restore some brainpower. He could tell that Haru needed him in an entirely different way right now, and Makoto would always be there for him—no matter what.

Haru bit his lip. Great, now he’d killed the mood, too. That just made Haru feel worse, and his grip slackened, his shame rapidly cooling his own ardor.

“Haru, it’s okay…just tell me so I can help,” Makoto implored.

Haru didn’t want to make things even worse than he already had, so he closed his eyes and forced the words out. “I _did_ want to do this for you, but…half of the reason was for revenge,” he added miserably.

Makoto’s expression shifted from concern to confusion. “Revenge?” he questioned, and he cupped Haru’s cheek with one hand, trying to coax Haru into looking at him again.

Haru took courage from Makoto’s gentle, reassuring touch, and he opened his eyes to explain. “I initially got the idea because I heard _your_ song in the store again,” he started, and Haru knew from Makoto’s blush that he did not need to specify which song. “And I was thinking about how much that song makes me _want_ you, no matter where we are, when I saw these briefs and—and I suddenly had the idea that _I_ could do the same for you. I wanted you to feel what I felt that night; I wanted to give that to you, to gift _you_ with that special kind of enjoyment that you’d gifted to me…but I also hoped that whatever song I chose would end up affecting you as yours does to me.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Haru,” Makoto whispered tenderly, caressing Haru’s cheek with his thumb. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“But—”

“You don’t!” Makoto insisted with a small laugh. “You’re only human, Haru; of course you’d want revenge if…if…”

“If I had to fight down a hard-on every time I heard that song?” Haru supplied dryly, and Makoto had the grace to blush before he continued on.

“My point is, even if there was some revenge involved, which is _understandable,”_ Makoto reminded, “I know you, and I know that revenge would never be your only reason…and it looks like I’m right; you just said so yourself, didn’t you?”

Haru nodded, and the motion turned into rubbing his cheek into Makoto’s hand. Makoto smiled. “See? Nothing to be sorry about.”

Haru wanted to smile back, but gloom still tugged at his heart. “But now I’ve ruined it anyways,” he replied glumly, ceasing his rubbing, “I wanted you to enjoy Christmas through _my_ song, but now I’ve completely killed the mood.”

“You didn’t completely kill it,” Makoto insisted, pulling his hand away and drawing closer to Haru’s lips as he ground his hips down into Haru’s for emphasis. They’d both lost some steam, but neither one of them had completely lost their erection. “Your dancing was _really_ good, Haru,” he praised, and Haru blushed again.

“And you…had a healthy appetite,” he returned awkwardly, embarrassed at his pun, and Makoto laughed as he closed the remaining distance for a kiss. He pulled back, and Haru looked deep into Makoto’s eyes, his own blue depths sparking with affection and love as he sang in a low murmur:

_“What do I care, how much it may storm? I’ve got my love to keep me warm…”_

“I love you too, Makoto,” he continued, “so much.” Makoto felt his emotions swell as he suddenly surged into Haru, kissing him with as much intensity as if they hadn’t stopped at all. Haru moaned against his lips as his slackened limbs once again tightened their hold on Makoto. Makoto continued to tease Haru with his tongue and teeth, making them both long for more with every sensual stroke, with every frustratingly gentle nip. Haru eventually pulled away to breathe, his lips red and swollen from Makoto’s handiwork.

Makoto couldn’t help but grin as he caught his breath. “Was that alright, Ha—” he started to ask cheekily, but Haru cut him off by lunging upwards and catching Makoto’s mouth with his own impassioned kiss. He dominated the kiss with his enthusiasm, purposely caressing spots on and under Makoto’s tongue that he knew to be sensitive before pulling back to catch Makoto’s bottom lip in his teeth, further exploiting other known sensitive spots by licking along it with his tongue.

Makoto groaned as Haru finally pulled away and rested his head back on the pillows. He was satisfied that Makoto now looked just as hot and bothered as Haru felt, but he also felt an insistent, gnawing ache deep inside him that might consume him if Makoto didn’t get a move on _right now._

Makoto apparently felt the same, because he shifted all of his weight onto one hand, the other sliding between them to seek Haru’s entrance. Haru canted his hips up more to help; once Makoto found the hole in Haru’s underwear, he slipped two fingers in, just to make sure that Haru was ready like he’d said earlier. Haru took him easily, and Makoto could not resist playfully rubbing against Haru’s prostate once or twice…or a few times.

“Makoto,” Haru pleaded with an urgent whisper, and Makoto finally pulled his hand away to line himself up with Haru’s entrance. He started to push gently inside, and Haru’s breath started to quicken.

Once he was halfway in Makoto brought his hand back up to support his weight. Haru tightened his legs then, pulling Makoto further inside him before Makoto could even ask if he was alright. Makoto groaned in surprise before deciding to give them both what they wanted—he snapped his hips into Haru’s forcefully, fully sheathing himself in Haru the rest of the way with one firm push.

“Ah!” Haru gasped in surprise and pleasure, his hips jolting from the contact. Makoto stared down at him intently, his question reflected in his eyes. In response, Haru raked blunt nails up and back down Makoto’s spine. Makoto shivered, his breath coming faster as he forced himself to stay still for Haru’s sake. He was pretty sure that meant yes, but with how his body was currently screaming at him to move, Makoto didn’t trust his own judgment.

Frustrated, Haru raked his nails up and down again. “Makoto, _go,”_ he finally said desperately, and Makoto suddenly exploded with movement. His hips pistoned into Haru’s, not even giving them a moment to think as he sought their release. Haru tried briefly but found he couldn’t keep up with Makoto’s blistering pace; instead he tried to focus on bringing Makoto more pleasure by squeezing his inner muscles, by seeking out the most sensitive areas of Makoto’s back and exploiting them with his fingers.

“Mn…Haru…”

Haru cried out as Makoto shifted his angle slightly to graze against his prostate. He gasped as Makoto did it again, and again. “M-Makoto, stop that; I’ll come too soon…” His words cut into a long moan as Makoto simply sped up his pace, sweat starting to bead on his brow.

“I’ll stop if you will,” Makoto replied, his words ragged, and Haru only squeezed him again in response, giving him a rare grin. Makoto let out a groan of want before his lips descended upon Haru’s, plundering his mouth with the same fervor that he showered on the rest of his body. Haru held him tighter, his hands sliding up into Makoto’s hair to keep him there. Makoto eventually broke apart just slightly, his breathing too erratic to keep up the kiss. He was close.

Makoto’s heavy breathing tickled Haru’s lips with each thrust, and his whole body shuddered. He was close. Makoto pulled back a little more so he could see Haru’s eyes properly, and the two stared at each other passionately, their breathing and expressions only becoming more undone from the sight of the other.

“H-Haru,” Makoto started, “I’m…”

“Me too,” Haru replied breathlessly, tugging Makoto’s mouth back to his. “Come with me.”

He sealed his mouth over Makoto’s, and Makoto’s cries rapidly increased in volume against Haru’s lips as his release found him. His hips continued their breakneck pace, and a heartbeat or so later Makoto felt Haru’s own cries against his lips, signaling that Haru had joined him over the edge. Makoto kept going as long as he could; not only was he seeking to hold onto the pleasure that they could only find together, but more importantly he wanted to give that pleasure to Haru for as long as his body would allow. When he noticed Haru’s cries start to slow down, Makoto found his energy rapidly diminishing. His hips lost their momentum, and he soon stopped entirely, pulling away from Haru’s lips and collapsing onto him with a small ‘oof.’ He rested his cheek on Haru’s collarbone, panting heavily. Haru simply stayed coiled around him, cradling Makoto’s head against his collarbone by tenderly running his fingers through the sweat-dampened hair at his temple.

Once Makoto had caught enough of his breath to speak, he started to wiggle in Haru’s embrace. “Haru, let me up; I’m heavy…”

“It’s fine,” Haru insisted, his grip unrelenting. “I want to stay like this.”

Makoto’s lips formed a small, happy smile, and he tilted a bit to kiss Haru’s collarbone. “I do, too.” The pair then sat in silence for a while, simply enjoying being wrapped up in each other.

However Haru’s gentle, rhythmic stroking of his hair was soon going to put Makoto to sleep, and that wasn’t what they needed to be doing right now. “Haru,” Makoto said, breaking the silence, “we have to clean up.”

“In a minute,” Haru said with a tiny yawn. It seemed like he was falling asleep, too.

Loathe as he was to do it, Makoto started to try to break Haru’s hold again. “Come on, Haru, let’s get cleaned up and go to bed.” When Haru’s limbs still didn’t let up, Makoto nuzzled his nose into Haru’s collarbone. “Haruu…”

“Can we sit in the bath for a bit?” Haru asked, and Makoto knew the translation to be, _Can we cuddle in the bath for a while?_

Makoto smiled again. “Of course. But if we start falling asleep again we have to move.” Haru made a noise of agreement and finally released him. Makoto carefully stood before holding out his hand for Haru to follow. He helped him off of the bed, and the two started to head to the bathroom. Before they left the room, Haru paused and stripped off his underwear, leaving them abandoned on the floor. Makoto’s gaze couldn’t help but linger on them for a few extra seconds. Eat me, indeed. Suddenly, the memories of his escapade swept through him as if they were a physical presence, tantalizing him with each sway of Haru’s hips, each lithe movement of his body. He quickly felt a familiar warmth begin gathering in his belly once again.

_I’ve got my love to keep me warm…_

“Makoto?” Haru questioned, and Makoto gave himself a little shake, looking over to find Haru standing at the doorway waiting for him. Makoto gave him an apologetic smile as he joined him before they headed out the door. 

“I think your revenge plan might’ve worked, Haru,” Makoto commented in the hallway, and Haru blushed at the reminder of one of his original motivations.

He awkwardly cleared his throat with a slight cough as they reached the bathroom. “Well…just make sure you control yourself; if _I_ can do it, you can too.”

Makoto laughed, “Don’t worry, I will.”

\---((Several Days Later))---

It was a good thing that they happened to be close by their apartment the first time they heard the song out in public. They were at the convenience store down the street grabbing some snacks on their way home from a day of shopping. Haru was standing next to Makoto in an aisle, perusing the selection, when the familiar intro started to play over the loudspeakers.

_The snow is snowing, and the wind is blowing…_

Haru bit the inside of his lip so he wouldn’t smile as he surreptitiously looked over at Makoto. The shoe was finally on the other foot, and Haru was at the very least curious how Makoto would react. Haru watched him for a few more seconds, but he didn’t notice any visible changes to Makoto’s appearance. Haru didn’t even see him blink.

Huh. Haru honestly wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Yes, Makoto definitely had more self-control than him, but Haru had thought that maybe he’d be at least a _little_ bit affected—

Haru’s thoughts suddenly derailed as a firm tug on his hand started dragging him down the aisle and towards the door. Haru blinked in surprise. Makoto was walking briskly ahead of him, paying little attention to their surroundings as he rapidly approached the exit.

Haru started to protest in confusion; they were supposed to be getting snacks, after all. “Makoto, what about—”

Just as they reached the door Makoto suddenly turned back to look at him over his shoulder; his expression would seem normal to an outsider, but Haru could see that the mask of calm was clearly about to crack. Pure desire and poorly-restrained want simmered just beneath the surface, reflected plainly in Makoto’s eyes if you knew what you were looking for. To Haru, Makoto looked like he was ready to have his way with him the moment they stepped out the door.

Seeing this, Haru frowned. “Oi, Makoto, what happened to self—”

They’d made it out into the parking lot, and Makoto stopped abruptly, turning to face him before he squeezed Haru’s hand tightly.

_“Haruka,”_ Makoto started, but he had to pause to clear his throat; his ‘bedroom voice’ was not going to come out of him in the _parking lot of a 7-11._ He tried again. “Haru, I know what I said, and I know you never did this to me when you were in this situation, but…I can’t take it. I can’t stand there in the _convenience store_ when you’d…and then _I’d—”_ He cleared his throat again as a blush finally crept over his cheeks. “I thought I was ready for this to happen but I’m not and I’m sorry and I know I’m rambling but…” He let out a little whine, squeezing Haru’s hand even tighter. “Can we please go home?” Makoto whispered softly, looking down at the pavement in embarrassment as his blush deepened.

Haru had to bite his lip again. He should be mad but really this was too cute. His poor Makoto; Haru knew _exactly_ how he was feeling, and he was of course ready and willing to do anything to help him _feel better_ , (plus let’s be honest, if Haru said he wasn’t a little turned on at this point he’d be lying), but he definitely could not let this become a habit.

So Haru pretended to be miffed and looked put out, pausing for a long second before he said, “Just this once.”

Makoto was so flustered he didn’t even notice that Haru was faking his peevishness; instead he tugged Haru to him, briefly covering his lips with his for one poignant, lingering kiss full of promise. “I love you, Haru-chan,” he said passionately, and Haru didn’t even get a chance to respond before Makoto was tugging him along again, making a beeline for their apartment.

Haru had to suppress a chuckle with his other hand so Makoto wouldn’t hear. Really, if this was how he reacted to hearing the song _one time,_ Haru could only imagine what would happen the next time. Somehow he didn’t think Makoto would react much better. But that was fine; Haru certainly wouldn’t tell Makoto, but he supposed he could give Makoto a few mulligans.

Haru tamped down a flurry of anticipation as their apartment neared. However, if Haru was allowing Makoto some mulligans, then Makoto was going to do the same for him. If Makoto wasn’t going to control himself, then Haru saw no reason why he had to either.

It’d be a miracle if they managed to get their Christmas shopping done this year.

\---((The End!))---

**Author's Note:**

> ~~aaaaaaaaa~~
> 
> ~~I tried really hard to control my euphemisms but some of them just needed to happen LOL~~
> 
> YAY I made it, wooo! I (as usual) have fic ideas dying to be written, but cannot say when I will have time next so, until next time, Merry belated Christmas and Happy Holidays and Happy New Year, everyone!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> ~freaky-hanyou


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